


i wanna tell you but i don't know how

by minyoungis



Series: BTS [9]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Dancing, Dancing in the Rain, Dinner, Drama & Romance, Emotional Constipation, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, Poetic, Romance, Sappy, Sappy Ending, Swearing, fancy dinner, tae's preferred term of endearment for you is love and i think that's beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyoungis/pseuds/minyoungis
Summary: Love. It slips off of his tongue so smoothly, so easily, without a second thought, and you wonder if he even realises how much it simultaneously terrifies and exhilarates you, every time he says it.
Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V/Reader
Series: BTS [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973482
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	i wanna tell you but i don't know how

**Author's Note:**

> i’m only honest when it rains / if i time it right, the thunder breaks when i open my mouth / i wanna tell you but i don’t know how - Neptune, Sleeping At Last

He glows under the yellow lights, veritably _shines_ in your star struck gaze. It hurts to look straight at him, but it hurts even more to look away.

Swirling the wine in his champagne glass, he takes a delicate sip, simultaneously fitting so perfectly into the calm sophistication of the restaurant and sticking out like a lovely, sore thumb, with his twinkling eyes and artfully messy, bleached hair.

The ring on his finger sparkles under the chandelier and makes little, tinny noises whenever it makes contact with his glass or the fork.

You suspect he’s doing it on purpose.

Watching him is like second nature now. Call it what you will, staring, scrutinising, observing. Either way, you catch yourself doing it more often than not.

In the middle of some nights, when sleep seems like an unattainable fantasy, when your body is crying from exhaustion, but you can’t quiet your mind, you find yourself turning towards him, studying how his chest rises and falls with each deep breath and how his eyebrows seem to look less fierce without the divot in between them.

It’s a far cry from the man you behold on stage, switching eerily easily between large, adorable, boxy grins and panting, sweaty, heaving shoulders with a gaze so intense, it feels like he’s looking straight into your soul.

There are those moments when you watch him from the corner of the room, when you’re standing next to the stylists, as he’s talking to his fans, smile unwavering and filling his whole person, exuding gratitude and love in every laugh, wave, handshake, hug.

Or when you’re spilling ice cream on your t-shirt, but you hardly mind the cold when burning warmth spreads through you at his giggle and crinkled eyes as he helps you dab at the spill, handing you his own cone and Yeontan’s leash, sun falling on his soft, smooth skin, like his own personal, permanent spotlight.

When you’re curled into yourself on the corner of the couch, your eyes quietly following the movement of his finger tracing frustrated circles on his forehead behind the glass of the recording booth as he works on perfecting that one run that he keeps stumbling over, and you want nothing more than to physically wretch the vexation from his mind.

And now, when he’s practically _radiating_ charm in his white formal shirt that stretches across his shoulders just right, with his fingers curled around the stem of the flute of his glass, all while his foot runs up and down your shin, tracing random patterns.

Kim Taehyung is a fucking work of art.

It’s a conclusion that gets reinforced every second you spend watching him, every time you feel your heart clench when he laughs, whenever you kiss him and you become the very definition of _no thoughts, head empty._

“I love you,” you whisper.

He stops in the middle of his story, something about Jimin and a V Live comment, and asks, “Did you say something, love?”

_Love_.

It slips off of his tongue so smoothly, so easily, without a second thought, and you wonder if he even realises how much it simultaneously terrifies and exhilarates you, every time he says it.

You shake your head in a silent _“No,”_ and pick up your own glass, hiding your face behind it and gesturing at him to continue his story.

The moment’s passed.

It makes you a bit jealous almost, how simple it seems to be for him, whenever he gives you a quick kiss on your sleepy forehead in the mornings and nonchalantly declares, “Love you,” before zipping out the door, like he hasn’t very nearly given you a bloody heart attack.

Or how he doesn’t hang up on you after saying, “Bye,” but always makes it a point to tack on a _“Love you,”_ at the end, rendering you incapable of getting any work done for the next five minutes, as you feel your stomach swirl with a curious combination of glee, soft fuzziness and fear, like you swallowed a bad toffee that was still sweet.

Or when he exhales the words against the back of your neck, arms loosely wrapped around your waist after you’ve lied to the company on the phone, telling them that your boyfriend’s in the shower so he can’t talk at the moment, before he cuddles you closer, pulling you into his warmth and expecting you to slip right back to sleep with all those tingles running down your spine.

Now you’re both standing outside the restaurant, huddled together on the pavement, under the building eaves, as his arm curls around your waist, thumb hooked into an empty belt hoop on your formal pants, cowered close to the wall so the rain doesn’t hit you.

It’s like the skies couldn’t decide between a storm and a drizzle, settling for a curious in-between that leaves you cold but not shivering, half-inclined to stay cuddled up to the warmth that Taehyung’s frame provides and half-ready to step out into the empty street and let the drops lash at your body.

You look away from the road, chin angled up as you set your eyes on your boyfriend, only to find that he’s looking straight at you. His fingers tickle your waist gently, as you rest one arm on his chest and the other lazily low on his hips.

“You were saying something earlier, at the restaurant,” he starts, breath hitting the shell of your ear, as he bends closer to be heard over the loud wind.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, anything, probably along the lines of, “No, it was nothing,” or, “I forgot,” when abruptly, a car drives too close to the curb, right over a puddle, drenching the two of you in water.

You pull away in shock, gasping from the sudden, freezing cold seeping into your skin waist-down, and you hear Taehyung loudly cackle as he looks down at himself and you.

There’s a wild look in his eyes, and with a flick of his head towards the street, wordlessly, he steps out of the shelter, arms spread out, head upturned as he lets the water fall on him, a wide, free grin on his face.

You’re caught with your lungs crying out for help when the breath is wretched out of them as you watch him twirl around with abandon, rivulets of water trailing down his face and figure, the permanent sparkle in his eyes even brighter under the light of the street lamps.

Uncontrollably, your heart is clawing its way out of your body, crawling up towards your mouth and now you’re screaming over the rain, “I love you!”

A loud crash of thunder and Taehyung cocks his head, hand behind his ear, squinting to see you through the thick film of drops as he shouts, “What did you say?”

You cup your hands around your mouth, the words tripping over themselves to get out before you choke on them, and yell again, _“I SAID THAT I LOVE YOU!”_

The rain’s falling heavier and the wind picks up, roaring around you in your minimal protection, and now Taehyung’s approaching you, quizzical look on his face.

He steps up onto the pavement in front of you, and suddenly, he’s close, close, close, wet frame crowding your space, curious eyes locking onto yours, and fingers tangling in your own.

“What was that, love?”

_Love._

You refuse to look away from him, gaze focused and direct. Confident. Sure.

“I said that I love you.”

His face lights up bright, mouth stretching into a vibrant smile as he lets out a deep chuckle, bringing a hand up to rest at your cheek, impossibly gentle, pulling you to him.

_“I know, love,“_ he whispers before your lips meet his, storm raging around you, your eyelids covering the miniature cartoon hearts that have settled in your eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!  
> find me on tumblr (where everything is cross posted) at @min-youngis :D


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